Faith (or redemption)

I bet I have at least--to the maximum--one reader now. Now I think about this reader, and why they continue to read this said "online diary" of some sorts and I came up with a example.

You are a preteen emotional, female. Why female? I like to use my imagination, its my choice so stop asking questions. Anyway. She just doesnt quite understand herself, stumbled upon this blog and appreciates my way of writing. Simple enough? I guess. She more sticks to me like a sticky note just because I write whats on my mind. She looks at the main title of the blog as it reads..."Life of a Dying Poet" and she thinks, oooo thats dark. See I just grabbed her attention with a cliche title. but as she reads she notices that is isnt all oh, I hate my life. Oh my parents never understand me. Oh I just want to kill myself because no one cares and im just writing because my parents wont let me see a therapist. Thats not interesting to me. I dont like to complain about my life because I understand though it may seem sucky to me, OTHERS ALWAYS HAVE IT WORSE.
     That brings me to a new thought. Here I am, with the internet. Typing on a blog with a Mac. I am medicated and I dont see a therapist by choice and I dont mind about what my parents think about me. Its my life, my choice and I will face my own consequences. Most people are like this. Is it because you have things, you feel that your life is shit? Pardon my language but very few people get on my nerves and those are the people who arent considerate and think about themselves only. When I drive down the road I can only help but think that some people dont even have a car. So many people take buses and more than not it may be with choice but there are always two sides. The other people who sit beside you on the bus have no car. They cant afford it, they have a minimum wage job and could be going through so many more things. Even more, not every city has a public bussing system. So those people who could be riding the bus are now walking. They have to get up two hours early just to they can make it to work on time, as others get up late go to work and act as if its not a big deal. Next time you look at your car, kiss it. Wash it first if you have to. It may be a P.O.S. Special Edition but at least it is something. Thank your parents, uncle or whoever gave you your form of transportation. It could even be a bike. Now I realize that I just ranted on nothing so this last paragraph, ignore it. Unless if it got you thinking and you enjoyed it. Then hold it to your heart.
     Back to Ms. Preteen. She realizes that I dont live in my own self doubt any misery and is amused by how I dont punctuate sentences properly and I capitalize the most random letters--Just to clarify everything, I know how to type I just dont want to waist time with it. AKA I need a editor.
     She understands me, no matter how young she is. She doesnt know all my problems but she doesnt even have to know. She looks at my writing and although she still knows nothing concrete about me she understands me. She does to such a point that if I ran into her on the street and we met it doesnt matter if she knows all the local gossip I had to say, or if my dog just died or even if I like dogs but the point is this. She can look at me and even though she knows nothing about me. She knows how I think and how I see things and I think that is the most important thing to know about people when you meet them. I feel knowing if the person before you takes 300 MG of Zoloft or knowing that they were beaten when they were little are secondary traits. I may be heavily medicated and I may have been abused but I may still see the world as it is, beautiful. I still have compassion. I still have fear. These are the most important things to know of someone, not what I did today. Though I dont condemn those who enjoy to hear that, I just dont find that to be what you need to know about someone.
     Ms. Preteen understands that High school/middle school life doesnt continue soon as you finish your 12 years of education and as soon as you graduate, you better hope you have realized that by then or else you find that you are 60 feet under water and you are out of breath. Through this she will gain faith in herself and thats what I would love everyone to understand. I dont expect you to be confident of everything I even loose confidence daily. But I just wish everyone to have a grip on reality and everything that is in front of them. So they can pursue their dreams and continue to dream. We all want to be happy, even me.



Remember me

The Second Chance

Once is never enough. When you try something once you eventually have a craving to do it again. You never want to do something once but sometimes once is enough. Whenever you think back to that once in a lifetime memory it reminds you of that moment you stepped off the train and saw a new countryside or breathed in 104 degree hot air for the first time. It can be anything, but if something bad happens will you give that bad thing a second chance?

If someone kills your significant other, if you ever were to date again would you let the same thing happen again? As much as you want to say no, your never the one to dictate what will happen. I feel that everything happens for a reason but the reasons arent always clear. Then thats when I think everything is random and some people just get the short end of the chain. I guess that could be likely too.

Ive been thinking alot about second chances through the past day and I cant help myself to make a decision on where I stand if people, instances, or anything else that occurs deserves to manifest itself around my life. I have never been one to do that, I have never got over a grudge and I have never fully trusted anyone. I guess I got the short end of the stick....Im just the unfortunate one. 

So here I am sitting on my couch, trying to figure out what the next step is in my life and I almost just want to keep everything in a halt. Im ready to breathe, I want to breathe but these walls are closing in and all I can think about is how claustrophobic I am.

Have I done anything wrong? I would like to think not. I dont judge anyone on their appearance and I dont dislike them till they have wronged me and showed me that they are a shitty human being. I listen to my friends and I always have advise, but only if they want to hear it. I never yelled at anyone and if im mad I only hide in a cave and vent everything myself. Thats when I realize that I never have let anyone return the favour. I remember several years ago I had a rough break up with a girlfriend and long story short I pushed everyone away and I still do to this day. That moment changed me and I was to never trust anyone and the only thing my friends wanted to do was help me. I never let them and I became a cut-throat which eventually led them to stop telling me about their lives and now no one really talks to me without me establishing the conversation. Soon after that, I stopped being the one who was the motivator and friends that I gathered with on a weekly to daily basis I now see every once and a while.

This is what I have become but I realize that maybe this has happened for a reason. That maybe in order to be comfortable with others, I need to become comfortable with myself. I know that still hasnt happened yet. 

When I become "normal" again. When I tell all my friends I have changed, do I deserve a second chance? I guess its their choice. I can never make the decision of others and I never can suede them to make a certain decision. The only thing I really can do is show that I changed and I will do anything to prove my unconditional love....but it needs to be shown on my own free will. No one wants to see a puppet being manipulated to what you want. You can only hope that the hand in the puppet is the one that has always controlled it and it will do anything to prove trust again. You can never trust anyone till you can show that you trust yourself.

Remember me

Stabbed?

Everybody has some dose of paranoia, 


Whether it be "I think someone is watching me" or a suspicion that a significant other MAY be seeing another. Either way it runs naturally through every persons blood, now im going to cut to the chase.


As much I would like to keep my personal,personal life out of the open, I feel inclined to talk about me and my high case of paranoia.


Simple enough, its out in the open. Im paranoid all the time. I always think im being watched, that microphones are tapped and video cameras are wired, all around me. But there is a difference of a dysfunctional form of paranoia and a controllable paranoia.


The dysfunctional is the ones you see scratching at their skin believing anything is possible, that have the hardest time in life. I hate to sound judgmental but I feel these are the weak of mind but I wouldnt say that they are actually lacking IQ. They are the ones--just staying in the realm of paranoia--that have to obtain antipsychotic drugs to maintain a grip to reality, before I step further lets see the other side.


Controllable paranoia is exactly as it sounds. You have the same symptoms but how it is treated is a little bit different. You have the common sense that even though you firmly believe that someone is watching you, you ignore the fact thats in your mind and you believe what you dont believe. 


So you sit in your room and you get that feeling that someone is behind you or peeking through the door and what do you do? You can check but the key is to check your surroundings. If you are truly paranoid, you know if someone is in your house, you know if your door is locked and you know when someone is driving down your block--welcome to my life. Do you check? I dont. Even though every gut tells me that something is watching, listening, going to happen, is happening right now, I still dont. 


I can say that I trained myself in the ancient mountains of Zabala and I gained wisdom from eating the root of a old...stick. But im not gloating in wisdom or anything. I just know the statistics and common sense. 


When does the ignoring and actually not accepting danger actually occur? No one can say. the fact that something is a statistic or is known to your mind, is because it ACTUALLY HAPPENS. Believe it or not but if it exists then it EXISTS. You could be in this next minute, become a statistic of rape, murder, suicide, freak accidents, or even divorce but more times than not, it doesnt "just happen".


Sometimes you are so in denial, you ignore your instincts and you ignore what you actually believe that is fact and you accept the non-reality that you created to cope with what you thought wasnt real. 


I knew someone that had this instance. His significant other was also seeing someone else other than him. He felt that she wasnt faithful but knowing that he is paranoid he disproved all that was fact and believed his own reality that he made for himself. He never did believe his gut until all was shown to him. What happened to this couple? History is still to tell, but when you achieve such a blow to your beliefs and what was truth, it destroys your vision. Everything turns upside down and you cant believe anything that stands before you. Everybody's word that was once known as truth becomes lies. You still struggle to move forward, but you dont even believe that forward is the right direction anymore and all you can believe is what you still believe. 


That everyone lies, everyone is human, everyone hides and everyone can change.






Remember me

Safe

I left my baby back in Oregon,

because she lost all sanity. 

I left my lady, 
locked into a heart of stone but,

can we only let her be?

If only, 

I may have shook hands with the devil,

of fire and what not but,

I forgot what the deals about.

So I left her all alone, 
at the station,

what was it all about?

Where are all my friends?

I think I'm short change, 
and I'm dead.

Now I'm looking for a reason in the morgue. 

Blind with all my answers, 

I'm taking all my chances, 

while this rhythm creates a riot, 
for your soul.

While I'm waiting by the river. 

So you can save me again.

I wont save you, 
our loves is not worth saving. 

It's draining down a hole, 
of what you call your life. 

I wont save you, 
our hearts not worth saving, 
it has slowed down then stopped.

I met somebody by 7-11.

Told him my story and he says,

"Boy what are you waiting for?"

I never understood noncompliance,

till he hit me with his car.

I left my baby back in Oregon,

because she lost all sanity. 

I left my lady locked, 
into a heart of stone but,

When we get there well see.

Like livin a lie.

Like wanting to die.
Like screaming out.
But try not to shout.

They are sleeping.
The cursings of god and, 

with all our lies,
we make mistakes, 

but no one wants to hear it.

She would sing me to sleep, 
as she carries me away.  

You're my better half.

Where are all my friends?

I think I'm short change, 

and I'm dead.

Now I'm looking for a reason in the morgue.

Blind with all my answers, 

I'm taking all my chances, 

while this rhythm creates a riot, 
for your soul.

While I'm waiting by the river. 

So you can save me again.

Remember me

The Epidemic

Ive been making arguments on suicide to others claiming its something it needs to be addressed, the following writing debates about that topic, more specifically in Idaho and high suicide states. I obtained several of these statistics through Psychology academic journals and newspaper articles, this doesnt go full credit to me. 

Suicide is the third leading cause of death among individuals in the United States from ten to nineteen and is rising more as the years pass. One fifth of teens in today’s society have at least thought of committing suicide and suicide rates in the United States are twice as high than other industrialized countries such as China, Australia and Japan. While hitting closer to home suicide rates in Idaho are and have been ranked within the top ten highest in the nation and is advancing by 14% each year. With that in view for it to be an epidemic what factors motivate individuals in Idaho to do this? What can we do about it? Does it have to due with budget cuts that people see more and more each day, or could it be some other unseen factors at work? Before we can start drawing conclusions, the first thing is to figure out what the problem is at its roots.

Statistics on suicide are the people who actually complete the act, but what about those who don’t succeed or haven’t done the act yet?  Those people are in just as much pain as the ones who actually go through it mentally and sometimes physically. Those who have an unsuccessful suicide attempt can just as well live with the scars or even be disabled the rest of their lives due to the severity of the attempt. What about those who aren’t in the main statistics? The National Institute of Mental Health states that for every successful attempt there are eleven unsuccessful ones. With that in view should we consider those who are in physical or mental pain part of the statistics? What about those who haven’t done the attempt but have the pain such as depressive mental disorders or even non-suicidal self-injury or NSSI? The strongest predictor of a future suicide attempt in individuals is in fact NSSI in itself.

Up to 14% of all adolescents deliberately injure themselves. You might be thinking that it doesn’t sound like much but putting it in real numbers there are approximately 6 billion people in the world and 1/5^th of the population are adolescents. 168 million adolescents make up that 14% of individuals who intentionally hurt themselves and the average deaths worldwide per year is around 57 million. Putting the percentage of NCCI in full numbers makes it seem like it’s a serious problem but why do people do it? Psychiatrists Paul Wilkinson and Ian Goodyer state that it is to relieve stress, sadness and guilt because they have no other proper ways to cope with everyday life. The various ways to use NCCI is cutting, burning, stabbing, hitting or various other ways that can induce bleeding or bruising. Why aren’t any of these people part of any statistic? This is obviously a problem that needs to be addressed but there are others that tend to be neglected.

Around 31% of people worldwide have a form of a depressive disorder! It is very common to know one of these people personally but do you know how they feel? It is shown that out of all these individuals with depression 85% of them there condition is moderate to serious by affecting the individual’s everyday life. How might they be affected? It is shown that depressed people find it difficult to concentrate, feel worthless or anxious many even find it hard just to get out of bed. Depression is the leading cause of suicide and what do people do about it? People with depression rarely see to have counseling let alone even having someone notice their condition. So what factors put Idaho in such a chokehold that people are forced into depression, NSSI and suicide? Yet again I went to the root of the problem and I have found four factors; budget cuts, our location, gun laws and substance abuse.

The big problem in Idaho—also among other states— are budget cuts. If you cut Schools and higher education today, then you will run the risk of a less educated, less competitive work force.  If you cut rehabilitation programs you will run the risk of expanding the prison population tomorrow and it’s the same thing for mental health. As of 2010, Idaho’s budget committee took $2.4 million from mental health services even when the State Planning Council in Mental Health warned that it would lead to more suicides. Since 2008 funding for mental health has dropped from $40 million to $32 million this year. Resulting, the death toll of suicides rose up 19%— fatalities at 300— as of 2009 and is rising 5% each year. But Idaho has always lacked health services. Idaho doesn’t even have a suicide hotline of its own. Idaho relies on an office in Oregon who takes all our calls, I find that very unsatisfactory.

Idaho takes a great deal of isolation. Since towns are small and wide spread throughout the state physical isolation is added to mental. How many opportunities does a person who lives hundreds of miles away from the nearest town with a psychiatrist have? Rarely do people with depression in Idaho seek for help due to inconvenience and lack of money. Along with social isolation studies show that further north you live, the more likely you will have depression and commit suicide due to the lack of sun and climate. Since it is clearly evident that the higher north you are makes it more likely to be vulnerable to mental disorders, shouldn't, mental health coverage be higher as you head up the continents? It doesn’t seem quite so.

Gun laws are hardly restrictive in Idaho but when you look at most of the deaths by suicide, 65% of them involve a gun. I went further to figure out what is going on and in 1997 gun suicide cases in the United States was 1,400 while the next highest was Canada at 153. Gun suicides are remarkably high in the United States. To create a further problem I looked at Child Access Prevention laws in the United States in which state that if you own a gun, by law you must store guns where others—mostly children—cannot find them. Idaho is one of the few states that do not have this law furthering suicides of adolescents from ten to nineteen. I’m not saying that guns need to be more restricted in Idaho but more simply out of the reach of children.

Another big problem in Idaho is substance abuse. In a short period of time of 2001 northern Idaho was known as the meth capitol of the world. In my opinion that isn’t a title that I’m proud to have. Statistics show that suicide is done half of the time while under the influence of alcohol or drugs and I believe it. It is fairly well known that alcohol and certain illegal drugs are depressants in which make you even more depressed if you were depressed in the first place. They make your mind unclear and your actions very questionable and all in all if your thinking of committing suicide substance abuse will only make a thought come true.

When everything is said and done I think it is very clear on what we are supposed to do to help the escalating suicides in Idaho. Find more funding for mental health, find support groups that will help survivors and or look out for those who soon will. Along with that have a few laws keeping guns away from children and crack down more on the substance abuse that is running free in our state. Though this may seem simple I would imagine it would be very hard, money doesn’t grow on trees. But when the positive is presented in front of you how can you not want to stop an epidemic from happening? 

Remember me

The Youth

I am young, my age isnt relevant but all you need to know is that you may just be young too.

I can tell you that by the time I reached the age of sixteen I was a senior in High School and I was excelling so much that I could have graduated early, but I didnt. I felt that I should join my friends in the "walk" and receive my degree.  Im not one for the spot light and if I had the choice I wouldnt have done it, but I have parents who want to see me excel and denying the voices in the back of my head I only wanted to see them happy. Soon after graduation I attended college for a fairly short period of time.

I guess I wanted to go because that was the right thing to do but then my mother advised me to leave school and slow down. Im not sure if you have ever heard of a parent telling you to not attend college--when they have attended college themselves. So after I achieved a year of college I decided not to return the returning fall semester and when everything is said and done that leaves me to where I am now.

Now im not saying that nothing has happened since then, or that I have had nothing to do with my life. And most certainly not saying that this was one month or even ten years ago but I just have been thinking about youth and what has been done.

My mother explained a simple concept to me, and that was enjoy life. I enjoyed life before but there is a difference between living in life, living the life, and living. You can disagree at anytime you want but this is my philosophy. I dont plan this written in a book anywhere or even get fame out of my ideas but some things just arent touched on normally but those things are also the most important to keep to our souls and they will keep us human.

Anyway I was living in life, and you want to LIVE.

You know I will touch on this in the future and when I say you I mean the spectators of my life. I plan on doing this for a while. At some points I may have a few posts a year. others I may have several in a day. But the long run I think I decided what I want to talk about and that is life and death and everything that evolves around it. This will be a blog about simply, my life. Not so you can model yours around mine, not because I'm some egocentric human being. But because we all have question, some we consciously are aware of, and others we just dont understand. I dont have answers, but I do have the will to think about them and notice things in life. You are my spectators, few to none. But I hope you will understand my thinking and what can be done with the things you dont understand.

We are all youth, we are still growing and not everything is known.



Remember me

An average day

Today I woke up not knowing what day it was, but what Importance does that show, that should effect my life? None, but the fact is this. You dont know what will happen to you, one of the few things we can't do no matter how muchwe try is that we can never know what will happen in the future.

Now you may be thinking. ''Hey? I know ill be going to work tomorrow.'' But in my opinion that is just logical reasoning. Yes we may have plans in the future, but ''future'' is the determining factor.

Future, lets call him Frank, Frank is a unmedicated, bipolar individual that now controls your life. Frank gets very moody, for no reason. And if you happen to be there at the very moment Frank gets pissed, you may be gambling with life.

Just the other day I odered a pizza for take out, I drove down one of the main roads picked up the pizza then turned back onto the road. What I saw was a car that literally flipped forward while heading the same direction I was previously heading. A car in front of it pulled into traffic last second pushing a suv into a direction that made it unable to drive. If I would have waited at my house just up to a minimum of a minute, that could have been me.

Im not sharing this with you because I had a revelation that I need to change my ways. Im telling you this because life is fragile and Frank is a vengeful sonouvabitch and you cant do anything about his actions.

ill touch on this again in the future but till then.




Remember me

First and Last Time I Swear

First and Last Time I Swear

I couldn’t talk. I couldn’t say hey there is a raging battle inside of me and I can’t do it on my own, we can do everything by ourselves as long as we put our minds to it—I know we can. We can succeed in this never ending battle we call life, but then again, the battle always ends. Whither it ends with a .45 to the head, or a life from crib to coffin, it ends. So why try? I have nothing to loose, just some beach house I’ve obtained through the years, various objects and buildings from a lost life and a head full of broken thoughts and propositions which can never come true. Everyone was gone for the rest of my life—must have been something I said— but I don’t mind, I never really had anyone anyway.

I hear Doctor Petty P.H. Worthless D. happens to be a good doctor/therapist/physician/whatever, and he can help me with my problems. It seems like I don’t give anyone the respect they deserve–but why am I here? So now I’m waiting in his lobby, the lady at the front desk says, without appointment I can wait up to several hours. This is a small town, what else would I do? I sit and my eyes start to wander; Grandma a few chairs to my left patting her eyes with a Kleenex. A teenager slouched forward with dark clothes sitting next to who I presume to be a pissed off mother in front of me. Tree in the far right corner of me, looks like he has the worst of the troubles and then something that caught my eye. There was a woman to the right of me a few feet away, around my age. Skinny and pale with a little flush and dark brown wavy hair that passes her shoulders and creating a veil over her face. She was wearing a one-piece dark blue dress, simple, tiny and elegant; she was leaning forward with her head down.

I looked at what her hands were doing, left hand was slightly extended but resting on her lap, palm up. While the other hand was gripped around her left wrist while her thumb was stroking the wrist. Up down, up down, this constant motion intrigued me—what happened to her? Granny Betty White to my left probably lost a family member, I’m taking bets on her husband. Then that punk in front of me most likely got in trouble with the law. A man came out of the doors to my far right looking at a clipboard and walking at such a painfully slow pace that I was ready to knock him out, put him in a wheelchair and push him down the hall and when he regains consciousness he still would have been nearer to us than the lazy stroll he was currently taking. I take that back, the lazy strollers makes this man look bad, a lazy stroll just might be to fast for this man.

“He speaks!” I thought as Granny Betty sniffed a little and looked up to the doctor.

“Yes?” she whispered

“Could you please come with me?”

“Ok.”  She got up and waddled towards the doctor and it looked like they were doing the one hundred meter dash to the door to exit the room—oh ya, the woman.

I tried to examine what she was doing and then it hit me. This is how I think her night went. She is depressed, I know this as a fact, and I can feel the cursed aura coming off of her. She had a depressing, rough day. She’s mentally drained and she isn’t feeling to well physically. Something pushed her over the edge; lets say she found out her boyfriend was cheating on her with little bimbo bitch from across town. They didn’t care, they didn’t understand her, and they defiantly don’t know what its like to be trapped in a fleshy citadel of illness. Then he calls her one late night on his cell phone.

“What you up to sweetie?”

“Oh nothing,” she says. “Thinking of taking a bath in a bit, it was a hard day”—she knows everything.

“Well do you mind me coming over and relieving some of that stress?” She bit her lip, and smiled.

“I would love that, ill leave the door unlocked.”

“Alright sweet” he laughs. “I’ll be there in a few.” She turned off her phone and cries.

She jumps up off her leather couch, closes her book and starts to head to the bathroom. Puts her hands on the door handle and stops, sighs, then continues her journey. She turns to the white porcelain tub, bends over and turns the water till she reaches the temperature she wants. Gets up, turns around, walks to her mirror/medicine cabinet and she sees what she has become she starts to cry more.

“If this is what you want, then you’re getting it.” She whispers, and starts taking off her clothes. When in the nude she looks at herself again in the mirror.

“So this is what I’ve become.” She takes her phone off of her sink and turns on the camera. Starting to send some revealing picture to her once known significant other to guarantee his arrival—send.

She starts to cry again and begins to do what she originally intended to do to this poor excuse of a man. Reaching into the medicine cabinet she grabs three things; pain relievers, anti-depressants, and the razor she uses for shaving. She takes the pain reliever bottle and pours the pills out into her hand, the bottle was nearly full, and it was empty when she was done. Plenty fell to the ground but it didn’t matter to her, she just needed enough to numb her pain, she threw her head back, put all the pills she could hold into her hand into her mouth and swallowed.

Next she opened her anti-depressants, she looks inside the full bottle and read the label. “Wellbutrin, take two 200mg tablets, by mouth, every day.” She stood over the sink and dumped every last pill into it and turned the faucet on.

Then she picked up the razor, examined it for a few seconds then turned to the right and threw it at the door with all her might. The razor fell to the ground in several pieces and she started to walk towards the door. The bathroom was very steamy now; she bent over and picked up one of the blades while standing on other pieces of the razor. Looking at the blade she smiled and stood up.

“I hope it was worth it.” While taking the blade to her wrists and doing the only thing she could now. Then she laid in the tub with her wrists out for the world to see closed her eyes and hoped for the night to end.

What happened next? I can’t tell what happened. Obviously her wish came true and the night ended, but just the night—nothing else. But what the boyfriend did I have no idea, I only hope for the best. He could have entered the room to see her bathing in her own blood freaked out, called the police which brings her here today. Or the sick excuse of a man could of gotten into that, and still just had his way with her. But I feel he did nothing at all, she is holding her wrists like a failed attempt to scream to the public “I am not sane, I need help.”  But the cry was not heard. He entered the room to find a woman bound to her sickness, bathing in the only thing she has and cried with her. He knew what he did, and he knew that she knew and he wanted to become a changed man. Nonetheless he has already made his imprint in her life; it was time to erase his ink on her paper and he left hoping she will live to see another day. He got what he wanted, but she never got what she wanted, weird the way that always works. They never say or heard from each other again and she woke up in the morning, room red, room temperature water, feeling incomplete. 

That brings us to today; she knew that something was obviously wrong so she made an appointment with this clinic and she needs to tell people what happened last night and what she should do. Grandma Betty opened up the door to my left with the Dr. Whoever behind her.

“I hope you do well Mrs. Granderson.”  The doctor said. I sneezed. And granny flinched.

“You too doctor.”  As she walked passed me she gave me such a glare that I wouldn’t be surprised that she just condemned my soul to hell—but I didn’t care. I turned my head and I started to observe the bookshelf to the right of me in the corner. “Depression and You,” “Beating Addiction,” “101 Tips to Cure Stress,” and other books flooded this bookshelf. I couldn’t help but to laugh to myself when I saw the world’s greatest angry mom get up and observe these books along with me. After a while of scanning these titles she cleared her throat reached above her head and grabbed a red book titled “Counter reacting dysfunctional families.”  She opened the book to a random page and she started skimming its contents. My eyes were fixed on her, she seemed so interested—obviously this meant something to her.  She started to walk to he seat slowly, not even taking a look off the page.  She soon sat down, crossed her legs and in all her interest she never made a sound.

This room was quiet, I felt as if something was whispering in my ear—my hair stood up on back of my neck. As corny as it sounds that’s the best description I could give to what was happening. Something or someone was taunting me and I knew it was there. Call me crazy—that’s what I’m here for— but it said a name. A name I have never had a friend to possess. A name that made my very stomach knot up to the very proper noun. A name that could change my life, and then I heard it again, the voice whispered.

“Serenity.”  

I shook my head and I looked at the mom again. She gave the book to her son and pointed at a page in the book and he started reading. After a while he sat up from his slouched position and she was looking over his shoulder. Something changed, the atmosphere became light and I felt less lost. I looked away from the mother and her child and closed my eyes. And I tried to think all who was around me. People who support my well being and love everything I do and I couldn’t help but to think no one.  I left everyone behind and moved without notice. Very few people know where I am and fewer know why I am here.  I don’t even know if more than one person knows—I am a ghost. Maybe I wanted this; maybe I wanted to live knowing no one. No fame, no praise, no sorrow. But what all has that accomplished?  Am I happy? I’m not sad but am I happy?

I think I snapped—I need something—I cant live like this forever. I opened my eyes again to look at the girl in blue elegance. Beauty in its rawest form, brings me such peace, brings me—Serenity—to see her staring back at me. I couldn’t say this is love at first sight but its something I never felt before—she smiled. I’ve been alone since day one. My mom has been really sick since my birth, I have no siblings and my father left while I was very little—how is someone to live on there own? I read my fathers note, he never wanted children. He said I was made all from my moms doing—there’s no point. “I’m of to do something great, and I wish you could do the same. You remind me so much of your mother, she is a visionary. Fear nothing, everything has a reason.”

Finally it struck home, my hardened heart of a Pharisee screamed for what’s lost and I started to cry. Little miss in blue saw my torment and she walked towards me sat right next to me and put her hand on my leg.

“Are you okay hun?” My heart stopped, this wasn’t any ploy to get her over here. I was trying to hold it back—fear nothing, everything has a reason.

“Yeah, I just…no. No I’m not fine.”

“Well this isn’t the atmosphere to have a serious talk so you should call me and stop by my apartment sometime?”

“Yeah, sure.” I smiled as she got up out of her seat to the front desk. After a while she came back and grabbed my hand put the tiny piece of paper on my palm and closed my hand into a fist.

“Now don’t be looking at it till you get out of here.” She said. She smiled at me once more and walked out of the building at a steady pace.

Who was she?  That question was ringing in my head more than the question, “why did she just get up and leave? She didn’t even see anyone?” That didn’t even matter to me.  The doctor with the acute tumor in both of his legs put his hand on my shoulder and tried to knock me out of my deep thought.

“Are you ready to go?” he said to me. I shook my head to get myself back into reality.

“Yeah, sorry I was just thinking.”

“Your fine, I will show you to the room” He walked ahead of me as I followed and at this point I didn’t care about the overgrown tortoise in front of me—was I dreaming? He opened the door to the room sat me down and sat in front of me. He started rubbing his forehead while looking at his clipboard.

“I’m sorry to say this but your blood results came in positive for a form of cancer known as leukemia. Its good you noticed the symptoms, that way you just might have a fighting chance.” My heart stopped, “How could this happen?”

“Statistics show that twenty eight percent of people in your age range end up having leukemia. Though a rare chance someone has to get it, I’m sorry. “ I wished he would just shut up, I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.

“Since we don’t have any clinics that treat your disease currently in our region I would advise you to move in with your loved ones and get treated where they are, if they live out of town that is. Static’s show that if you are around loved ones, or even believe in a god of some sort, you are more likely to have a successful survival rate.” I started to turn pale—so what does that make me? I know no one—I’m a ghost.

“Are you okay? I’m sure only positive things can happen out of this.” I started to get very nervous and finally I spoke.

“How much time would I have if I didn’t do anything?” He stared at me for a few seconds.

“Looking at your medical history you haven’t been to a doctor for several years, because of that this might have been developing for years. I’m sorry to say this but the cancer cells are very dense though not impossible to treat. It will be a hard few years but if you don’t give up you could just pull through.” Key word could.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“I really couldn’t tell you, maybe months, maybe years. It could even be days.” I stood up and started to walk to the door.

“Thank you doctor, I’ll find out what I can do.”

“Are you okay? I can help you with this.” I turned around and stopped walking.

“No, your services will no longer be needed, thank you for everything.” I closed the door behind me and I walked past the front desk. The attendant at the front desk looked at me all worriedly and was about to say something but I walked outside before any conversation or bullets took place.

The sky was clear, but it was raining. I loved rain and the smell of it was my rescue for everything that just took place. This town was small, no one would know what happens to me, but then again everyone might know—it’s a gift that I keep to myself. The mountains glistened with snow from the ending winter. I turned to take a left to follow the sidewalk, no cars filled the street, and no person was in sight do to the rain. When done standing to feel this god’s gift to me I headed to the local diner—the only one in town.

I opened the door and all I saw was a young girl around eighteen cleaning the tables—hair pulled back and a dress. The bell on the front door rang with a clamor to shatter everyone’s ears that heard when I came to I noticed the girl walking into the back. I sat down in one of the booths in a corner—this place was deserted. I filled through my pockets and took out all the contents; a pencil and a ripped piece of paper. I sat there confused for a second; the paper read Serenity, followed by ten numbers. I didn’t waste any more time so I got out of the diner as fast as I could—I don’t think I was dreaming. I just might have a chance for fifteen minutes of fame on some disease survival show. Outside was bright now, the weather changed in a matter of seconds. It felt like I was walking on a cloud. The air felt so light and the sky was so blue. I continued down the road smelling everything that I loved.

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What?

I realized today that I really have no idea what im doing here. Maybe just to talk about life, maybe just to understand myself. But I wont figure that out anytime soon. and yet I know I have said what im going to do many times before, I am still looking for structure and where im going to take this. If you like what you see now. Let me know. But as far as my knowledge goes nobody has even glimpsed on what im trying to achieve, so I dont necessarily have to stress about this. 

In a effort to see how to do this I clicked that handy button on the top of the page that says Next Blog--or something of that sort-- to see how others do it and how frequently and I discovered a few things. One I dont speak French or Spanish and two I dont speak French or Spanish. 

Seriously, I clicked that button several times and all I got was this gibberish that I couldnt understand but I sure did enjoy the pictures. The only thing I probably could of made out was someone saying "Vienna is perfect this time of year" and pictures followed. I can sure say I agree with that but whatever it said after it beats me. As far as I know the title of the blog could have been "America is Satan and we all need Chartreuse" I have no idea why but but I can only help but think that maybe sticking to what I know is the best for all of us. I think ill post some writing--Poetry, short stories--every monday. at least have a little bit of structure. Till then.

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6/25/11

It is now officially the 25th and after a long day of work. I dont have much to say.

If you still are unclear on my current endeavor I am a DD (Developmental Disability) worker...helper.  In simplest of terms I help those who have intellectual deficiencies--cerebral palsy, retardation, schizophrenia--and help them live in a everyday environment. But there are several locations and situations.

Some individuals are highly behavioral and need to be in a institution with high structure till they are able to grasp everyday functions like bathing or even eating. Soon as they finish this they go to a intermediate institution, which have several rules but much more freedom. Then, where I help, is the Residential Homes. I live with the clients and I help them shop, cook, and track their finances. Sounds simple? Not so. They still are highly disabled and still have the characteristics of the institutionalized individuals so they will still act up. But they can be in control now.

Now here is the fast-ball. Majority of these individuals are sex offenders because of their disability they dont know the difference. They are registered and those who are repeated offenders are monitored 24-7 by staff who will always be a arm length away. Because of this, they fixate on anything they can get their hands on, everyone must reframe on talking about their personal lives and keep most things of ourselves secret to them. I guess why I am writing about this now. Since I cant talk about me with them.

Because of their situation, they have rights, and rights of privacy. So if I ever talk about them from now on, I will only use initials. I only want to respect them.

Now that soap box is over I have a few things to add about registered sex offenders.

Do you think Sex offenders, that have intellectual deficiencies, should be imprisoned into our jail system?




Think about it momentarily and I will offer up some ideas.

Those who know some of the prison system know that sex offenders, even more child sex offenders are some of the lowest in the prison social class. But those who have intellectual deficiencies and are sex offenders get a even lower class, because they dont do much about it. By the time they are released, they are angry. They have been stabbed, beat up, sodomized and all they want to do now is follow through their frustration. Around 80% of this population, that after release, re-offend.

In the institution that I work at, work with the courts and they try to avoid this population from stepping foot into this vicious cycle. Judges put the individuals in probation and send them to this institution. Following strict rules, if they develop to how society functions, they will be released into society without supervision. Now with that in thought, what percentages of individuals that leave this program re-offend? About 8%.

You have a child and I hate to put this thought in your head but they are approached by one of these individuals and then are sent to trial for their misdeeds what would you rather see.
A. Go to jail, out of society and will return in 5 or so years with a 80% chance of offending another child or.
B. Sent to this institution, living in your community supervised 24-7 then rehabilitated, stabilized and fill their sentence of probation--from 20-30-life--and return to society with a 8% of returning to old habits?

I think the later is the more ideal situation, and its even cheeper to cost society.

From my understanding, this program that we are running here locally is one of a few or even the only in the United States. It has became so popular that individuals from Alaska, Washington, and Oregon want to buy the rights of this program. I think this is a great idea to further in society, and im glad to work with this organization.

Everything may or may not be 100% true, this is what I have been told through training and I may or may have not misinterpreted anything previously written. To the best of my abilities I claimed everything truthfully to my knowledge and if their is any disagreements you are free to do so. I only wanted to inform and create a sense of awareness.




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Living the Life?

It started here, another wasteful night. 

You started crying, i'll just say goodbye. 

Look out the window, tell me what do you see? 

I see potential, I see harmony.

Your the kind of girl I dream about, 

but your only in my dreams,          

Your the kind of girl that I talk about,

but your to far from my reach.

From your reach, 

you started looking for the things that you saw.

And you saw, 

all the reasons why you didnt go far

You went far enough to notice everything that you like just so... 

                                                 

So long, goodbye. 

Im sick of trying for it for the last time. 

I am living the life that all the people hate, 

Id like to smile but I know that you relate. 

Summer skies and winter weather, 

are beginning to feel like its to much.             

Sleep on the roofs, 

jump to the sky, 

I need you there, 

I need you here now.

The promise missing and the pit of my stomach, 

I died. 

For you, and for me, 

and all thats thats in sight. 

All I wanted was to throw things down in the drain,

While we're watching and waiting for the rain. 

Head of sorrow, 

wait tomorrow we just lift up. 

With cigarette smoke,

you know ill throw up by my bed side and live a forlorn night, 

but you're perfect and amazing well thats alright.

                                                     

So long, goodbye. 

Im sick of trying for it for the last time. 

I am living the life that all the people hate, 

Id like to smile but I know that you relate. 

Summer skies and winter weather, 

are beginning to feel like its to much.             

Sleep on the roofs, 

jump to the sky, 

I need you there, 

I need you here now.

I thought I saw her couple of years ago

She says she's waiting for a rise worthy of my window.

And I miss you...




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Future Endeavors

Good news, I am now working as a DDA social worker.

For those who dont know what that is, I will be helping those with developmental disabilities. Like those who have Cerebral Palsy, Epilepsy and individuals under the IQ of 75.

This job has become a blessing to me and will further to continue my life and help me down my current path. But if you want to know more. Just ask.

As far as im aware I am only writing to myself, as always. But that doesnt bother me. Trying to figure out where im going to take this writing, I dont know. But eventually I will have a objective to strive towards. Till then I will continue to talk about my thoughts, feelings and events that can shift the heart in everyday life.

So I can tell you know that soon the style will become a formality and it wont just be random talk of a peculiar individual...Unless if that is what you enjoy.

In other news I have been lacking sleep. Im sure everyone has had that problem but is it to the extent that you just cannot sleep anymore?

I hear people say its because you have something on your conscious that you feel guilty about, but what if its nothing?

You see I have insomnia, many individuals have it and its like you are never able to find that peace of when you dream, so your soul just thrashes around as you just simply zone out in everyday living.

I am also currently taking supplements to help this illness, but no dice.

They used to work but as of the last month I think I just built a tolerance, It has always been in the family and as of since I was young, I had the same problem.

Have you ever felt that your awake and sleep cycles just blend together? I think im starting to loose my grip in reality, but does that make my life more fun? Or does it just make me insane?

Currently, you are just hearing ramblings. But some day, they will be words to the wise.

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Lost

Well I am sure that no one knows about this blog just yet so in appreciation to my viewers (which means you) For the next little bit I dont think I will go to in depth just yet.

Currently I am trying to find a job, and you know how stressful this is.
Tomorrow I have a interview with a DDA service and I would love to get this job, but until I do, I will be severely stressing about it, so I am going to put this on the end of my duties.

This doesnt mean I will stop overall person who just might read this blog, by the time you read this a year from now this complication in life as we know it just might be ended, but if your reading it now I will still post, may be short, but I am doing all I can to survive in my life.

To keep yourself busy, Person that may or may not be reading this, this year. I will ask you to read Self Reliance by Ralph Waldo Emerson to keep you busy till this event blows over. You can find this short essay easily just by Googling it so dont give me no complaints because I know you have internet.

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Future Plans

I have been trying to become motivated to write everyday, I have never been able to finish a particular writing all the way through and Im trying to see that day sooner.

My plan is to start blogging everyday to explain who I am what I stand for and try to find understanding in myself and everyone around me.

I constantly ask questions, though I dont expect any answers. I love to think about things in a new light. I have depression for a good portion of my life and it is heavily influenced all of my family, Depression is everyones life.

I want to start talking, I know it will help myself and benefit my future, but I dont know if anyone will ever be willing to listen.

I go by Corey Rhodes,

I want to change the world we live in.










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